Alternate Summon
by Wordgawk
Summary: Lancer is called forth by a female Master and learns much about this new era. (Fate/Zero, AU, Diarmuid x OC)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This story had been conceived during my height of Fate/Zero lovin'. I had way too much fun fooling around with Lancer. Think of the fic as a Fate/Hollow Ataraxia "slice of life" kind of feel. Don't take it too seriously because I definitely did not when writing it!**

 **Story takes place during F/Z.**

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Alternate Summon

Chapter 1

 _The air wavered in front of Tamiko. The room was dark, save for the ring of thick, waxed candles burning on the floor. In the center of the candles were markings. They were archaic and lined with words in a foreign language as old, if not older, than the meanings of the scratches on the ground._

 _A bodiless Tamiko floated over to the flickering candles. A hefty leather-bound tome rested in one of her hands while the other carefully palmed a sharp object. It was an ivory piece, smooth as marble, with a curved and jagged edge. Tamiko couldn't tell what this was. Perhaps an ancient relic, a statue of sorts. A marvel from ages past._

 _Tamiko's knowledge guided her as she flipped the browned pages of her book to her intended spot. She began to read an incantation. The short passage moved her, as its brevity alludes to unrelenting worship, heroism and loyalty._

 _The faint markings within the candles' boundaries pulsed with erratic, crimson light while Tamiko's words rang through the heated air. Her breath completed the last line. The symbols and words resonated as one. Bright beams shot upward, blinding her eyes, blinding her thoughts._

 _A misty shadow smoked from the light. She squinted, waiting for darkness to settle again._

 _She couldn't make out who it was, or what it was. She was awed and terrified, yet her body sang with adrenaline and anticipation._

 _Tamiko moved forward and reached out her hand._

Morning. Tamiko's eyes cracked open. It was a new day and still the familiar dream haunted her. Why was the subconscious such a tease, presenting her with her most desired wish? Tamiko couldn't reach it. She trained for so long, yet no results. She didn't think she ever would make it.

She closed her eyes and let the already fading images burn into her conscious memory along with hope.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She remembered Diarmuid Ua Duibhne's summon.

She remembered it well especially since she wasn't a first-class magus. Her parents were, but the gods seemed to find a reason to not endow her with the natural abilities inherited to magic casters.

So when she first heard about participation in a Holy Grail war, she desired the chance. She begged to be the next successor. She even went so far to move to Fuyuki to better her chances for a successful life as a magus. Slaved through difficult passages in a secret, musty library in hopes that something would click for her and she would _know_ what true magic was about.

Truth was a harsh reality. Participants required the Command Seals to have even a chance to conjure Servants.

Unable to accept it, she kept going. Months bleeding to months and then becoming years, Tamiko trained and honed her magical prowess.

In her darkest frustration, a searing brand burned the top of her right hand and Tamiko hissed at the ache. The heat subsided and left was an intricate mark.

The destined hour came. As droplets of her blood dripped onto a summon pentagram and fierce gales forced her to squint, she prayed that she wouldn't fail.

From her drops of blood at her feet, a plume of shadow shaped itself into existence. A burst of electricity sheared the air, emanating shockwaves that shook the library she was in.

Out of the blinding light shaped a well-built man, lithe and otherworldly. Raven wild locks. A beauty spot under his right eye. Bronze eyes, penetrating into her own. In possession in one arm was a blood red spear. The other arm carried a short yellow spear. A violet shroud encompassed each shaft up to their blades.

Stunned beyond all measure, she didn't believe she had succeeded. She convinced herself this had to be a dream.

But when the light faded and she was not alone in the library, she could finally gaze upon the wonder that she invoked.

The summoned being continued to stare straight at her. "I ask of thee. Are thou my Master?"

His first words were eloquent and simple. They excited her to grin as wildly as her heart was racing.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Her actions after the summon were less than refined.

She didn't fully absorb all the facts of which class she called up. She was too drunk on her excitement.

This new spiritual entity asked her the ultimate question and he did come after her calling, so the affirmative seemed appropriate.

"Y-Yes. I am your Master." Tamiko hoped the world wasn't going to explode with this reply.

The spearman seemed pleased. With no apparent danger present around them, his dual spears disappeared in a veiled mist. "Excellent. You must hold great strength to invoke me into this world, Master."

Tamiko didn't know about that since all she knew was astonishment. She had enough presence of mind to ask who he was.

He placed a solemn hand over his heart and bowed his head. "I am your divine blade in this war, Lancer. I will fulfill your wishes and retrieve the Holy Grail."

She broke. She baffled him by running at him and threw her arms around his neck. Lancer, with his almighty speedy reflexes, caught her without losing his balance. And she began talking in a train wreck of babble.

Once Lancer recovered from his new Master's enthusiasm after he set her feet down on the ground, he quirked a confused eyebrow and said nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Another day came and Tamiko eased off her mattress. Her body felt less mangled than yesterday and that was a good sign. She was a little tired, but coffee should work its magic into her system.

Magic. Tamiko blinked her lidded eyes around the room. What was the dream she had? Something about a Servant? It seemed so real.

She rubbed her face. Coffee first, questions after. She couldn't figure out what day it was. Tamiko fumbled to detangle her legs from the knot her sleeping gown had wound.

Still a little sleepy, she made her way to the bathroom. Peering in the mirror, her wavy, dark hair stuck up in odd angles. Her auburn eyes squinted at herself as Tamiko tried to process what she wanted to eat for breakfast.

Nope, caffeine it had to be. Any other food had to come afterwards.

After she did her bathroom business, Tamiko padded out to the living room. The room was still and the only sounds she heard was faint traffic through the windowpanes. She was still so sleepy.

She turned her right hand over and saw the dark marks. She rubbed at them.

But the marks didn't rub off. She'd scrub more with soap in a minute.

Tamiko popped her head into the kitchen and it was empty. She was alone.

She went to the porch window doors and pulled aside the curtain. A clear day.

Tamiko stretched her arms high over her head. While she held the position, a pair of feline hands curved around her waist. A solid body pressed against her back.

"Good morning, Master," a low voice rumbled in her ear.

She instantly dropped her arms. Her elbow connected to a stomach, disengaging the person's hold. A grunt sounded and Tamiko whirled around to find the very real spearman, sheepishly grinning and rubbing where she struck.

"Lancer!" Memories from the day before rushed back into Tamiko's mind.

"I'm sorry. You really did forget about me, so I wanted to jog your memory. My, what a reaction."

She blushed, her body tingling. Masculine hands skimming her nightgown's thin fabric.

"I didn't find you anywhere."

"I reverted to spirit form overnight. To assist you by conserving your energy."

Tamiko pointed at his face. "Y-You're an idiot and I'm making you pay for that."

Lancer smirked, not bothered by her declaration.

She beelined for that beloved caffeine kick. Lancer sat at the dining table, interested in how she moved in the kitchen, fiddling with beans and boiling water which would result in a brewed beverage. Tamiko felt his gaze on her back during the whole process. What was so fascinating about making coffee?

A tinker here and there and soon bubbling in the carafe was heard. The fresh aroma of beans mingled in the air.

"Want some, Lancer?" Tamiko offered on reflex, staring delightfully into the dark depths of liquid. Then she remembered Servants didn't need nourishment in this form. "Never mind."

"I would not mind, actually."

Tamiko tossed a glimpse over her shoulder. Lancer seemed perfectly earnest. If this was his first time trying the stuff, Tamiko wasn't going to deny him that. She poured him a mug and walked back to set it down on the table. Let him try the drink straight black to see how he fared with the flavor. "Careful, it's hot."

The warning didn't blip at all on his burning-mouth radar as Lancer took a sip right after his fingers took the handle. After Lancer swallowed, his eyebrows shot up in pleased surprise. "Exquisite. Very potent."

Instant hot eats. A perk of being a Servant.

"There's milk and sugar if you want to use those."

But he seemed content with his dark coffee and continued to drink.

"Tell me about yourself." She went back to the coffee maker to make her own mug of caffeinated heaven.

With a steaming cup carefully in hand, Tamiko turned around to join Lancer at the table. She inhaled sharply at Lancer standing directly behind her. Living alone, she wasn't accustomed to silence equating to people appearing in a blink. She had to get used to this.

"I assumed you wished to speak in here," Lancer explained as his apology.

Standing here in the unhurried scenery with barely more sounds than their breathing to fill the room, Tamiko truly saw how marvelous summoning a Servant was. Lancer might have seemed human, but his presence was anything but. Tamiko might not be professionally adept at the magical arts, but even she could sense the vast mana emanating from him.

The beauty mark on Lancer's face drew Tamiko's attention. Fashion magazines were where these moles were glamorized, but the women always had them, not men.

Picking up on her observation, Lancer smiled. "It is a curse, I'm afraid."

Tamiko frowned. "Is it dangerous?"

A cocky edge graced his lips. "If you are female, than yes."

"Let me get out my radiation suit." Wryly, Tamiko laughed.

His smile widened. "Women seek me if they lay gaze upon me. Magi such as yourself are resistant."

Tamiko felt a bizarre twist in her stomach at hearing Lancer was a literal chick magnet. His problem would definitely cause problems for her if he went out in public. Tamiko had to find a solution to that. Tamiko cast Lancer a suspicious look.

"Who are you?" Tamiko could've invited a homicidal maniac into her house for all his history she knew.

"My true identity is Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. Naturally, referring to me as the Lancer class is prudent."

"Of course." Tamiko had no intention of calling him by his real name. He was only her Servant.

Lancer gestured to the archway. "Let us discuss about the war where we were at. The sitting area is more suitable."

Tamiko nodded. They were going to be talking for a while.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Welcome back." Diarmuid glanced up from the magazine he was idly flipping pages when Tamiko came home. She had wholeheartedly insisted he be here in physical form and not trail her in spiritual form today. He didn't approve leaving his Master's side, not even during daytime when fights were unlikely to erupt. But Tamiko persisted and Diarmuid relented. Whatever her reason was for keeping him here, it was awfully important to her.

"Hello, Lancer." Tamiko almost laughed at seeing the reclined Heroic Spirit merely reading articles. "Do Servants get bored?"

"I'm not bored. These informationals are fascinating."

The stack of random magazines scattered on the living room table nearest the couch had received a thorough peruse. She had them pile up over the months. She couldn't remember what they were about, aside from the top issue that was in plain view and it was usually the morning paper.

"What has you so interested?"

"A term I don't recognize. Perhaps you can explain it?" Diarmuid was skimming, then held his spot in place with a pointer finger.

"Hmm?"

"Something called a 'bargain bin negligee'. With such little material, shouldn't the prices already be affordable?"

Tamiko flushed and snatched the book away. The rare copy of women's intimate attires in her place would be unearthed by a man, that much she could've foresaw. "You are not getting information about that."

Diarmuid began chuckling, sitting back with his limbs brazenly relaxed. "I didn't expect you to be so prudish. The attire is just another form of clothing."

"What's in this book is not a simple shirt and pants for normal outings." Tamiko studied him, at the dark battle outfit he wore that was unsuited for casual wear. "We need to get you regular clothes."

"Very considerate of you, Master."

"Well, we can't announce to the world that you're not the typical person." Tamiko rummaged in her bag and fetched a rectangular case. She held it out to Diarmuid. "You'll need these for when you're not fighting."

Briefly looking at it, Diarmuid then raised his appraising gaze to her. He reached out to take it. His fingers skimmed the box and curved lightly around her wrist, ignoring the item entirely. His uniquely hypnotic stare held hers. "Can you show me?"

Tamiko was set to open the case in front of him once he relinquished his hold. When he made no attempt to let go, Tamiko had to take his initiative and join him. She settled nicely against the curve of his hip.

She couldn't hide much from this distance, so she kept her eyes down as she removed thin metal frames from the velvet-lined case. "Glasses. I adapted the lenses so your curse won't cause mayhem. Lancer, you'll find this invaluable."

"Master, I am honored." Diarmuid slowly accepted his gift, inclining his head in thanks.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Diarmuid was studying her peculiarly. It wasn't the first time he'd given her this look. Tamiko noticed it more at the beginning of their contract and Tamiko took it as a sign of unfamiliarity and thought nothing of it. Now they recognized each other as partners to acquire the Holy Grail. Servant and Master. Yet Diarmuid still tossed her that unnerving glance and Tamiko couldn't imagine what went through his mind. If Tamiko did something colossally wrong, he certainly hadn't expressed his disdain.

Tamiko cleared her throat. "All right, what's wrong, Lancer? You've been staring at me like you want to ask me something."

"Forgive me if I offend." Diarmuid took a long moment to collect his thoughts. "Do you truly not have complete knowledge of being a Master?"

She wasn't born as a magus. She did the best she could under that circumstance. "I know things." Tamiko evasively crossed her arms.

"Masters spend years, decades even, to prepare themselves to handle Servants once they call forth one." Diarmuid's eyes cut into hers. "I received the distinction that you have not trained much as a Master. I see no inscribed lore of your family line's history nor any atelier suited for magic use. Surely, a Master would own a dedicated space for spellcasting."

His pointed gaze trailed to the Command Seal on her right hand. "Though you wield the Command Seals and I am bound to obey you, I insist to endeavor-" and Diarmuid pinned her with a severe, almost accusatory glare, "-did you lie to me about being my Master?"

Tamiko could tell by the hard set of Diarmuid's jaw that his accusation was not made lightly. Tamiko seethed in anger at his presumption. She didn't devote years to magic for nothing. "Do you want to kill me now if I did?"

"Master." Diarmuid's expression wavered, guilt smoking in his eyes. He remained guarded, pushing on. "Please answer me. I simply wish to know the truth. I will harbor no ill will towards you if you did."

Her anger began dissolving into a pasty sorrow and tears stung her eyes. "I did summon you. I wanted it more than anything I wanted in my life." She laughed, bitter and hollow. "To summon a worthy Servant was too much to ask for with my inadequate skills? I guess I called a Servant to be called a liar. Is that right, Lancer? Tell me!"

Diarmuid advanced on her, his fists tight at his sides. "No! It's not true!" His outburst rang with adamant force at his tarnished honor and a betrayer of his word. "I will fight to the end, without fail."

Tamiko stayed silent. Injuring his pride meant a great deal to him.

"I... I should be grateful to even be existing in this era, Master. Easily could another of the Lancer class have taken my place or altogether a different Servant."

The fire in Tamiko's veins cooled slightly. She eyed him dispassionately. "Do you wish to annul this contract?" If Diarmuid felt another Master was suitable, Tamiko couldn't hold him back from seeking another.

But deep inside, she felt the strong connection between them had become intangible to not be considered paltry.

Diarmuid, regarding Tamiko with the seriousness of their first encounter, bent down on his knee and swore fealty as he did then. "If I remain with you in this journey for the Grail, I swear to fight alongside you as if your heart is mine."

His bowed head twinged a longing within her, to see this war to its end, however it may be. To find answers she sought. Tamiko placed a steady hand against his cheek, guiding him to look up at her. When his humbled eyes met hers, Tamiko felt a stir and her chest thumped. Something felt off as Diarmuid patiently awaited her response with crystal eyes. Tamiko then understood and knelt in level with him. She bowed her head.

"Diarmuid, my heart's desires will be fulfilled by you."

Diarmuid respectfully inclined his head. "Tamiko, my heart is forged by yours."

At last, the partners spoke their true names.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Tamiko promised and delivered. She offered to take Diarmuid out to the shops to get him civilian clothes.

She loved the plan. He had absolutely nothing normal to wear, so he couldn't complain or refute.

Since Diarmuid really did have no clothing other than his Servant outfit to dress himself in, his dark green armor had to be worn in public.

Seeing her qualm about appropriate attire, Diarmuid suggested he be naked on the trip. When Tamiko saw his deadpan delivery, her mouth fell open.

When he swallowed a laugh, then Tamiko shoved him.

They walked to the shopping district, Diarmuid attracting more than one or two stares at his strange outfit. Tamiko heard whispers of "cosplay" and that was normal enough.

The stroll also filled with discussion of his clothing options. Diarmuid kept insisting he didn't mind what Tamiko bought him, but that couldn't be true. Everyone had a preference.

Tamiko figured, all right, Diarmuid could try on a few shirts and slacks and he'd pick something he liked more than the others.

She chose the biggest plaza in town, catering to unisex clothes. It was the most popular place for a variety of clothes and she loved how that saved her feet from constant shuffles from store to store.

Standing with Diarmuid in front of the mirror in the sitting area of a dressing room, Tamiko began to rethink her brilliant plan after a good chunk of the day passed.

First off, the clothes jumped on Diarmuid. Everything he put on, from grungy cargo pants to slimming dress pants all the way to tight shirts and baggy hoodies, Diarmuid always found something he liked in each piece and wanted to get them.

Tamiko couldn't fault him for liking all the clothes. The styles were new to him and seemed very elaborate and colorful compared to the drab shades and shapeless fabric back in his day.

Endless his enthusiasm was, but endless Tamiko's cash flow was not. But she wanted to treat him. Shopping with a Servant was the last thing Tamiko ever thought she'd do if she ever summoned one. She may as well get her kicks doing such an ordinary thing for such an extraordinary being. Besides, there were chairs in the dressing room to wait on. Comfort she had.

For a moment. Then came the saleswomen. What began as one helpful sales pitch turned into an advertising campaign as a flock of saleswomen barraged Diarmuid with suggestions and grandiose plans of modeling the newest lines of clothes.

Any sentient life form with an inkling of interest in the opposite sex would not resist the attention. Diarmuid, despite his respectful distance from outright flirtation as the women took part, started to show a gleam in his eye. His flattered gaze darted around and the ladies wore him down, flattering and cooing.

When Tamiko saw that reaction, she felt a gnawing tide of something fierce, something that silently made her wish for a roaring fire to set the room ablaze. Tamiko had to look away.

Eventually, with the sea of ladies stuffed into the crowded sitting room -and it was a large one, enough to accommodate multiple people- and the rambunctious chatter coming from all them, Tamiko lost sight of Diarmuid. Actually broke visual contact because of too numerous bodies standing between her and him.

Tamiko didn't know how it happened so fast, but she found herself waiting outside the entrance of the dressing room instead of remaining inside. The high octave of squeals, praise and business propositions gave the now _verboten_ area a convention feel.

Like conventions, it was easy to get caught up in excitement and not notice hours pass at all. Tamiko muttered aloud to herself about Diarmuid absolutely requiring to find some clothes before he got the hell out of there before she stalked off to another shop. Diarmuid would find her later.

Literal hours did pass by with no sign of him, much to her amazement. Following the clothing theme, Tamiko picked out a cute t-shirt for herself before indulging in a caramel sundae at the food court.

At first. With Diarmuid's ability to sense her presence, she could go anywhere and he'd find her. So she went outside to soak in some dwindling rays on an unoccupied bench meant to do just that.

A spoonful of gooey sauce was on her tongue when Diarmuid made his appearance. Weighed down with shopping bags, he sheepishly smiled at her.

Tamiko pretended not to see him, not even when he sat down beside her. She inadvertently checked behind him for a straggling saleslady, positive there would be one, to which Diarmuid raised confused eyebrows.

He apologized for not coming sooner. Tamiko tried to extinguish her annoyance; he did follow her wish and got himself clothes. That was ultimately the whole reason for being here.

Tamiko half-heartedly swirled her melting cup of ice cream with her spoon, watching the liquidy mass spin. The stray thought of whether this Heroic Spirit liked sprinkles on ice cream lifted her mood. Maybe those sugary sprinkles were too sweet and peanut chunks were more to his liking. A short laugh burst out and she shook her head at Diarmuid's curious stare.

Diarmuid revealed he had something for her, lifting his closed hands in front of her. She peered at the entwined slender fingers, wondering what he bought. She waited for him to reveal his surprise.

She didn't see what Diarmuid had because he leaned over to kiss her. Tamiko froze, just like the still molecules in her icy treat. Cold was not how she felt when his lips brushed hers.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

She was utterly _dying_ to get it. But with her piddly salary plus next paycheck arriving in the unlucky distant future, she _still_ wouldn't have enough to buy it any time soon.

Diarmuid held the perfect solution in his able grasp. She knew all would work out if he complied.

Her lips were pursing together in an effort to figure out the best sweet talk for her loyal Servant. There he sat on the couch across the living room, idly perusing a book. Approach him, be polite, don't demand, don't demand...

His highly trained perception could detect her a mile away. He was nice enough to give his questioning stare when she stopped at the foot of the couch instead of when she stood on the other end of the room.

"Yes?" Diarmuid said expectantly, marking his place in the tome with his finger.

Her giddiness or something similar must have revealed on her face. For just a fraction of a second, a twitch edged across the tear-like beauty spot under his right eye. She inwardly cowered. Diarmuid was already on to her.

Still, he was willing to hear her out and patted the seat beside him.

Joining him, she plucked the book from his hands. She chose the innocent route. As she put down the novel on the table, she slid onto his lap. His eyes widened a bit at her sudden forwardness.

"I need your help." She pouted for melting effect.

Diarmuid's smile was only eager to please. The unnerved tick in his eye said otherwise. "What do you require, Master?"

"I want to get something, but it's a limited offer. The cost is, ahem, more than I can budget."

There was a pause. Since Diarmuid didn't show signs of distress or mental breakdown, she plod on. "If you chip in some money I'll make it before the deadline expires. And, um-" she blushed now at saying the next part, tapping her index fingers together, "-I'll be so happy that Diarmuid has a role in my purchase."

"I'm afraid I don't have any funds to assist you." Diarmuid spoke this almost right away. He gave a pitying look as if to say, sorry, she lost.

But she was ready. She leaned over and gently pushed her bosom against his broad chest.

Diarmuid reacted instantly, reddening and trying not to stare straight down her shirtfront.

Suggesting what he could do to earn money using her extra low, throaty voice, she then waited for him. Her idea wasn't anything extreme.

"B-But the Holy Grail war. Surely, you can't have me doing this in the day-"

"War, shmwar, that's during the night. There are plenty of hours of daylight before evening."

"We must plan tactics. A meal. D-Dinner!" Diarmuid blathered nervously.

Her withering glare stopped Diarmuid's verbal floundering.

"My- my curse," came a last hardy defense. This was legitimate on his end.

"You've got a fix for it. C'mon, I've already spoke to the owner. I know a friend who works there, so you'll be fine!" She chattered about her friend. Before Diarmuid could recess deeper into the couch cushion, she tugged his arms to stand him up.

"Wait. Where-?"

She told him the address. "Go in, introduce yourself, and he'll have to hire you. He'll love your charm. You'll be a natural. Besides..." And she put extra emphasis on the word as she turned and aimed him to the front door. "What I want is so worth it."

Diarmuid threw her a frazzled glance before being literally shoved out onto the doorstep. She wasn't entirely heartless; she left a giggly trail of kisses on his cheek before closing the door.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Diarmuid found the address without problem. He sighed in relief when he saw no females around. That made his current situation of walking in and talking all the easier.

Right before the crucial corner where the supposed coffee shop was to be, Diarmuid could already hear ladies approaching. He suddenly remembered his glasses stowed away in his pocket. He hurriedly slipped them on. The first test run.

A trio of teenage girls were giggling and talking as they rounded the corner. He received a mute collective stare before they passed and continued their gossip.

No hounding him. Diarmuid sighed in relief. These lenses did work.

"Hey, did you know that everyone in the world has a twin?" one of them asked her friends. "I think I've seen someone just like that guy from the shop, but it wasn't him."

"Not that again. But he is cute, isn't he? We'll have to come back later."

The third girl piped in with a squeal, "Kyaaa! I'm so happy we passed by here. He's soooo gorgeous!"

The chattering faded off and Lancer tilted his head in curiosity. Happiness by simply having a good-looking stranger pay attention for ten seconds? Well, if giving joy was a requirement for the job, Diarmuid could provide that.

He stepped inside the darkened cafe and found the manager easily enough. Master was right; the man loved Diarmuid's enigmatic charm and hired him right there. In spite of Diarmuid's previous reluctance, he felt a pang of satisfaction as the manager informed him that work could start soon.

Diarmuid was on his way outside when he bumped into an employee who came from the opposite direction.

"Oops, sorry 'bout that, lad," came an Irish-accented apology.

The shock of electric blue hair triggered Tamiko's description about her friend. He must be the one. "Are you Lanny?"

The man grinned. "Aye. Nice to meet you. And you are...?"

Diarmuid froze. He hadn't consulted his Master about the use of his real name in public affairs such as this. Best not to chance it. "Lancer."

An eerie expression straddling suspicion and confounded perplexity crossed Lanny's face before it evaporated into a chuckle. "Interesting nickname. Y'know, I couldn't help but overhear the boss has taken you in for this restaurant. Congrats!"

Overhear? Diarmuid checked over Lanny's shoulder; the office was tucked away in a remote corner far from the entrance. The door had been closed during Diarmuid's conversation. Someone with only extraordinarily attuned hearing would make out words through a shut door from across bustling cafe noise.

No, someone with unearthly hearing. Diarmuid's heavy stare bored into Lanny. He was not an ordinary human. Who was he?

Diarmuid set aside his musings. He must be looking into this too much. "Perhaps I'll be working with you."

"Looks like!" Lanny patted his shoulder, animosity gone. "I gotta go. Catch you later... Lancer."

Diarmuid watched Lanny go. Work might prove to be interesting, after all.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

She wrenched the door open to the roof and gulped in the blissful, cool night air. Inside felt like a boiler room in comparison. Closing her eyes, she walked the short paces to the nearest stone pillar and slid down it to the ground. The chilly, sturdy surface was a welcome feeling.

Diarmuid had left the house after her insistence. She wanted him to scope out the area by himself and return with results.

She had spoken as a formal request, but her true motive was to have a moment by herself. Coming outside herself and staring at the starlit night sky hadn't dawned on her until a good 20 minutes passed after Diarmuid left for his rounds.

A whistle of cut air met her ears, followed immediately by another. Tamiko lazily opened her eyes, wondering why the empty rooftop was making such a sound.

Diarmuid was at the far end of the roof. His twin lances were balanced in his arms and he was swiping the air around him. Spinning poles, a turned foot, a scuff and he thrust. His silent training regimen was calculated and swift, much like a dance, though more impromptu.

A swish of yellow clanged with red as Diarmuid drew his lances together, then fanned them out. The sharp tips sliced separate arcs above and beside him. His steps were elegant and assured.

Tamiko slowly pushed herself up along the pillar, not wanting to break Diarmuid's intense concentration. She slinked over to the exit door and was an arm's length away when her Servant's voice floated over.

"Master?" Diarmuid, having stopped his sinuous movements, was staring straight at her. The moonlight molded around his powerful physique, shadows enveloping his curves. His weapons dematerialized.

"Y-you're very good." She couldn't stop her flaming face from betraying her, especially when Diarmuid began to walk closer. He stopped in front of her, his gold eyes staring down in concern.

"My survey didn't take long. I came back here to report to you, but this roof came into view and I just..." Evidently, Diarmuid had conjured the same idea Tamiko came up with and reached here first.

Diarmuid squinted slightly. "Are you all right? Your face is abnormally red."

"I'm fine."

Diarmuid reached out a hand anyway. "You are not well." It was not a question to him any longer as a frown deepened. He quickly closed the space between them to place his hand on her forehead.

"Wait." Her hand quickly halted him by his wrist. "I told you I'm ok. You don't have to check. "

Diarmuid, unblinking, let her stop his movement. They stayed motionless and Tamiko began to wonder whether to leave him alone so he could continue training or remain like this. She couldn't think of much else other than him being in this spot.

Suddenly, Diarmuid broke away. His slightly disoriented gaze coupled with a darkening of his cheeks and he glanced away. "Master, I am not the only one who can curse another by sight."

Tamiko smiled. Well, maybe for tonight she could be as much of a distraction to him as he was to her, after all.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

His first day as server flew by. Between prying doey-eyed girls off his arms and keeping track of the silly names between identical beverages and desserts, Diarmuid understood his Master's lament of "finally getting home from work."

Diarmuid had to remember that working was for the sake of his Master's happiness. He couldn't deny her that if it was within his ability to fulfill.

"So, so, so, how did you do?" chirped her anticipated question when Diarmuid stepped through the front door.

"I received many... gratuities, were they called?" His admission earned him a hug and he smiled. "Apparently, I was quite popular."

"I knew you could do it!" She clapped her hands. "By the way, did you get scratches? I thought I felt my mana used."

Diarmuid probably thought it best not to convey the catfight that broke out between two jealously cursed women and him in the middle. He had forgoed his glasses just for a little while to take a break from wearing them. He did so well up to that point. "I tripped and scraped myself."

Tamiko shrugged, not bothered by the fact his statement was a physical impossibility for an agile Servant like himself. "What did the manager say about your first day?"

Diarmuid comprehended most of the streaming praise his boss lavished on him for all the customers who came, except for one thing. He told her the details, including his confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"He told me I'm suited to work at a host club. Can you explain this term to me?"

His Master covered her face.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"What is it you wanted to buy?"

Diarmuid broke his silence with his question for Tamiko. A few weeks had went by and Tamiko could tell Diarmuid was starting to lose patience with her secrecy. She never dropped any hints. Though Diarmuid didn't outright speak of the issue -he hadn't even asked what the item was until this moment- his tone flattened whenever she broached the subject.

She didn't bring it up much because doing so would just make her anticipation all the worse when she couldn't get it.

No more frustration. At long last, funds acquired, she could place an order.

Diarmuid was a trooper and deserved to hear details. He was supporting her in this purchase, after all. She flashed him the tabbed page in her special mystical fashion magazine.

"A dress?" Diarmuid managed to keep the disappointment from his face, but his voice dropped. He frowned at the flashy image. "It looks... unduly complex."

With mires of belts, dangling accessories and inlaid chains covering the entire length of fabric, she understood his reluctance at its cumbersome appearance. "I can even change the color. It's the pinnacle of a girl's wardrobe."

Diarmuid began shooting her a look which bordered on outright laughter. "Surely, you are overreacting."

"I am not. It's supposed to make me look slimmer, too." She twirled on the spot.

"Do you need to be hung up on your appearance so much?"

"This is an exception. Spending so much on a dress, I have to look fabulous. I've already heard how great it is." She admired the ad again. "But this is the best feature." She jabbed at a bolded phrase.

" 'Mana cut regeneration,' " Diarmuid read aloud. "I don't comprehend."

She didn't want to spoil the whole surprise, but she was ecstatic just thinking about owning the pretty dress. She murmured, "Well, the dress uses mana to keep its shape. When mana runs out the shape actually changes to another one and the dress becomes new again. This renews the mana."

Intrigue now lifted Diarmuid's features. "How does the mana run out?"

She flirtatiously traced his chest. "Typically when the center of the dress is revealed."

Arousal glazed Diarmuid's expression. "Oh."

"But, to reach it you need to cut it precisely or the threads remain. It is a tricky challenge. Perhaps a wielder of spears can handle such a task?"

The prospect of slitting open a magically imbued dress with his spears sparked a fire in his eyes. She could already see him mentally cranking through blade niceties.

Diarmuid looped his arm around her waist. His fingers shyly painted concentric circles on the small of her back as the pinkness in his face deepened.

"So, um, how long will it take to arrive?"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Diarmuid took it upon himself to suggest an activity to surprise his Master with. She often dropped not-so-subtle hints to do things together and while planned excursions were a delight, Diarmuid figured a total surprise would wow her to supreme ecstasy.

One day, he made an arrangement and teased her about it, not revealing where they were going. When the day came she was all smiles when Diarmuid led her to the secret place.

Standing there resulted in a horribly negative reaction.

Utter fear.

A leisurely horseback ride in the rural countryside didn't elicit the bigger smile Diarmuid had hoped to invoke. Instead, she stared at the steed he rented with large eyes and a downturned mouth.

Fianna had its share of fine fillies and colts. In those past days, Diarmuid rode them proficiently enough to make him and his mount one with the wind. His affinity for these wonderful companions remained in this era.

The terrified expression on his Master's face today told him he wasn't about to see flying wind. At this point, a passing breeze would be gold. Diarmuid had even been considerate enough to assess for the most docile steed due to her lack of experience.

"This was your idea of fun?" Tamiko eyed the saddled horse.

The gentlest eyes of this tan mare didn't break her criticism. What a shame.

Diarmuid persevered. "I explained already about riding in Fianna."

"It doesn't mean you have to ride here." The horse snorted as if contradicting her.

Diarmuid patted the mare. "What don't you like?"

"T-Their huge hooves. They'll step over me if I fall. And how can you ignore those chomping teeth? My arm will get ripped off in one bite." Tamiko clutched her arms, holding onto them for dear life.

Diarmuid sighed patiently. As irrational as her fears were, fears were preventing them from having an enjoyable outing. He held her in comfort. Tension coiled her muscles like tight ropes and her heart jackhammered. If she were to move, she needed to relax. "Can I assure you again that this steed will not throw you off?"

"You could, but I won't believe the horse won't do it." Her muffled answer against his chest was quiet.

Diarmuid rested his chin on top of her head. "Then can you believe in the word of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne?"

Tamiko said nothing for a while. Let out a resigned sigh.

She shifted and timidly peeked around his elbow at the sedate mare. "Do I jump on its back?"

Laughter felt safe to do now. "He'll be scared of you if you do." Diarmuid's reassuring hand slid down her arm and grasped it. "Before you get on, pat him. Get to know him. It'll indicate that you're going to ride."

The arm Diarmuid had a hold of jittered. He felt her falter and pull away, but his grip stayed her. Courage.

Tamiko breathed in and out and stepped forward. Her pat on the horse's neck hesitated, but when he only tilted his head at her touch, her affection grew bolder. A shaky smile began to surface.

"Ok, show me how to get on this big guy. After that, we ride like the wind."

This day got better and better.

* * *

The overwhelming waves of mana Tamiko sensed were astronomical. Only one Servant was capable of releasing such a massive amount. Anyone magically inclined would feel it.

"Caster," Diarmuid muttered in confirmation as he came up beside Tamiko. Dusk had winked out of existence hours ago. Backlit by the glow of a lamplight, his silhouette tensed in battle readiness. Diarmuid stared hard into the distance at the swirling funnel of sea in the sky, gathering power.

"Yes, it must be." An uneasy sensation pooled in her stomach. Her Lancer was to pit himself against Caster.

A boom split the air. Tamiko watched open-mouthed as a gigantic blob rose from the sea, its shape a mess of long and thick appendages.

Diarmuid shifted his vision to the coastline. "Saber and Rider are already there with their Masters."

"They're not fighting each other, are they?"

"No. They seem to be in discussion. Tactics for annihilating Caster, undoubtedly."

Tamiko knew she had to join them, but her feet wouldn't budge. If two of the strongest Servants were collaborating to fight against Caster...

...the magician was too powerful for any one Servant to defeat.

Tamiko's stomach twisted. Any of the Servants could fall.

Diarmuid might not make it back.

She had prepared for this. She had prepared for this.

Diarmuid must have picked up on her reluctance, for he gently touched her shoulder. "We should go."

She shut her eyes for a few seconds to gather courage. They flew open when Diarmuid's arms crushed her against him.

"I will fulfill my duty, Master. No matter what happens."

-THE END-


End file.
